Ten-day flu

This was fun.

Somewhere between Orlando, New York, Amsterdam, New York, and Orlando again, my body found this virus and decided to farm it for a few days. You don't want to know the details.

But here are highlights. A call Friday to my doctor:

"My temperature is going up one degree F per hour."

"Do you have headaches?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"We know what this is. Can you get to the emergency room?"

I pass out between treatment rooms and wake up with five medical types rolling me down the hall. I'm wired for sound--they checked me for a heart attack, not likely, but I wasn't awake to say so. Four hours with saline dripping into my arm, a car full of sports drink to the house, and two days of nonstop sleep.

Two days later I knew I was in trouble when I couldn't follow the plot of a Friends episode. Back to the emergency room. Finally they give me something. Turns out the virus was only a pathway to strep. Two days on antibiotics and I can work, but I'm not really myself for another week. Then on a plane to Dallas for Christmas with the family. A book on Amsterdam's sights from my sister, an optimist.